Geoff Hoad
08-19-2004, 08:49 PM
(Just a word of explanation before you read this. The "Baby Beast" is a 1986 E30 318i with a Koni Adjustable Suspension and a few other suspesnion tweaks.)
Well another saga from Down Under. This however is not a happy ending story but something more akin to a Shakespearian tragedy! Let me tell you all so you can see the depth of my despair and sympathise accordingly.
Recently, the baby of the family, young Stephen, received his driving licence. The nice man who tested him congratulated him on how well he drove and me on how well I taught him. Fatherly pride knew no bounds.
But evil things lurked just below the horizon. When the BMW Club announced a Motorkhana, (also known as an Autocross) I signed us both up. A good place for him to learn about the car and his capabilities I thought. So we did some wonderful bonding in the weekends prior to the event. He learned how to change engine oil, and bleed brakes, as well as every other dirty job I could "teach" him. He just did it and smiled. Little did I know what malice lurked behind the impish grin.
On the big day we made a quick detour to wash the cars and arrived at what used to be a Royal Australian Navy Training Base now turned into a technical college. They had big helicopter landing pads at the rear of the complex and this is where we headed.
As usual, the sun was shining and Rob, our resident American and fellow 318i driver, stood back in the warm sunshine, and says, "Gee isn’t winter in Sydney hard to take. No snow, no ice, no frozen pipes. How good can it get"? Yes it was one of those great days. But it wasn’t going to be like that all day…
The event organisers get us all together and we walk the first course. Halfway through I am totally lost. Give me a map and I can navigate to hell and back. Heck, I do it every day going to and from work! But this "go around this cone and turn here" bit had me stuffed, and stuffed is what I did the first time I went out. Lost in Space had nothing on me. Then I turn the car over to young Stephen, who shows he has different navigational genes. Goes through perfectly and quite smartly as well.
My next trip in Round 1 arrives. I step into the car, ready to display parental leadership and educate my young son even further in the mysteries in "how to drive a car fast around an bunch of funny plastic cones in weird directions".
One small problem… he had worked it out before I did. On his first run he turned in a 27.71. Only a few seconds off the pace leader who got 23.43. I respond with a 27.30. Not very good but ahead of a younger and less experienced driver….just! The rot soon set in and although I posted a best time of 26.12, guess who squeezed in with a 25.50.
My "mates" in the club were by this time giving Stephen all the advice they could whilst simultaneously heaping waves of derision on my little bald head. Oh the shame of it. I thought he was a nice kid who would never dare to compete with his dear old Dad. Lesson Number 1, you know who is just as competitive as his old man. About this time I am wondering how I can blame Quentin for this, but no, there’s no evidence to even remotely suggest he’s at fault. Except the Go-Karts in Canberra. Yes, that must have been it. Inciting Stephen and telling him his time would come. Well it did, quite literally.
The morning wears on. The track is changed. With parental pride on the line I drive faster. Not quicker but as fast as I can push the Baby Beast. Now the Organisers are into the competition between us big time. "He’s only .15 seconds behind you" they would slyly exclaim with perfect sincerity on their faces". As I grit my teeth and screech away I see them all holding onto each other, laughing. Could they be laughing at me I ask, as I promptly run over some cones and get lost again.
At the end of Round 2 I post a 37.74 and you know who is right up my clacker with a 38.05. One "friend"says to me that Stephen could drive his 318is. I politely decline saying I would be too nervous. Nervous all right, nervous I will get comprehensively hammered! The cold hand of defeat is already clawing at my shoulder and he wants to give my little boy a 160 hp monster to administer the coup de grace. No I exclaim, but maybe you could let me drive just a few laps. "No comes the stern reply, you’ve already driven it this morning, once is enough".
I call Mother of Our Son, away from everyone else, so no one can hear my anguish. "You have got to come and see this", I say, "he’s all over me like a rash". Sue turns up after lunch just in time to see the third and progressively more difficult circuit being torn up by a lady her own age. "You’re not letting my little boy do that are you" she cries with concern in her voice. I turn and cynically reply. "Your little boy is doing very well all by himself, just watch". And out he goes again and posts a 35.37 compared to my 34.77. That isn’t bad considering the best driver posted a 31.27 in a Z4 3.0! And Stephen’s in front of three others in a Z3, E46 325ti and 2002 tii.
Round 4 arrives. This is the first course I instinctively liked. A straight line of cones each increasing in distance from the other. Weave your way down, turn and weave your way back. Just remember to slow and stop at the end… By this time I have reconciled myself to humiliation and embarrassment so when he comes and asks how to tackle this course I go over what I believe is the best approach. He listens, nods and then gets a 26.18 to my 26.21. Gulp.
Now its time to save my honour, save my driving integrity, save my soul, whatever. But my next attempt ends with disaster. Coming back too fast I lock up and slide into the garage sideways, scattering cones and officials, laughing hysterically. Botched up my run but got applause from the rest of the competitors for the best wipe out of the day.
Finally, I end up with a 25.52 with Stephen breathing down my neck with a 25.60. This kid is too good. Considering the best time was a 23.48 I felt we both did really well. He also finishes with six people behind him. Total times for the day, Father 124.15 and Son 124.52. Oh the shame of it. Oh the horror. The times are posted. Sue asks me "How did he do it"? The excuses flow through my mind like a raging torrent. "He’s just very good", I finally exclaim. "He was very good, wasn’t he" she replies. "That’s it" I flatly state, this can’t go on any more". "He’s grounded for life, banned from any more track days". My dear wife just snorts and walks away. So much for exercising absolute authority. Does that mean I am not the boss?
So here, dear reader, you see a thoroughly challenged parent. Without any instruction on the day he did everything he was taught. Got to say how proud I was despite being challenged to the max. Its great seeing someone you taught to drive do so well. Didn’t expect him to do so well.
The next stage is off to the track. Although the next track day is next month, he’s got soccer, and work. That means I had better go and get as much track time under my belt before he gets there and teaches me a thing or two!
But at the end of it all I am really proud of his efforts and achievements. What I hope is that we have a track day together and should that be to his liking perhaps we could form a track team and drive together. Just as long as I get to be quicker! J
Well another saga from Down Under. This however is not a happy ending story but something more akin to a Shakespearian tragedy! Let me tell you all so you can see the depth of my despair and sympathise accordingly.
Recently, the baby of the family, young Stephen, received his driving licence. The nice man who tested him congratulated him on how well he drove and me on how well I taught him. Fatherly pride knew no bounds.
But evil things lurked just below the horizon. When the BMW Club announced a Motorkhana, (also known as an Autocross) I signed us both up. A good place for him to learn about the car and his capabilities I thought. So we did some wonderful bonding in the weekends prior to the event. He learned how to change engine oil, and bleed brakes, as well as every other dirty job I could "teach" him. He just did it and smiled. Little did I know what malice lurked behind the impish grin.
On the big day we made a quick detour to wash the cars and arrived at what used to be a Royal Australian Navy Training Base now turned into a technical college. They had big helicopter landing pads at the rear of the complex and this is where we headed.
As usual, the sun was shining and Rob, our resident American and fellow 318i driver, stood back in the warm sunshine, and says, "Gee isn’t winter in Sydney hard to take. No snow, no ice, no frozen pipes. How good can it get"? Yes it was one of those great days. But it wasn’t going to be like that all day…
The event organisers get us all together and we walk the first course. Halfway through I am totally lost. Give me a map and I can navigate to hell and back. Heck, I do it every day going to and from work! But this "go around this cone and turn here" bit had me stuffed, and stuffed is what I did the first time I went out. Lost in Space had nothing on me. Then I turn the car over to young Stephen, who shows he has different navigational genes. Goes through perfectly and quite smartly as well.
My next trip in Round 1 arrives. I step into the car, ready to display parental leadership and educate my young son even further in the mysteries in "how to drive a car fast around an bunch of funny plastic cones in weird directions".
One small problem… he had worked it out before I did. On his first run he turned in a 27.71. Only a few seconds off the pace leader who got 23.43. I respond with a 27.30. Not very good but ahead of a younger and less experienced driver….just! The rot soon set in and although I posted a best time of 26.12, guess who squeezed in with a 25.50.
My "mates" in the club were by this time giving Stephen all the advice they could whilst simultaneously heaping waves of derision on my little bald head. Oh the shame of it. I thought he was a nice kid who would never dare to compete with his dear old Dad. Lesson Number 1, you know who is just as competitive as his old man. About this time I am wondering how I can blame Quentin for this, but no, there’s no evidence to even remotely suggest he’s at fault. Except the Go-Karts in Canberra. Yes, that must have been it. Inciting Stephen and telling him his time would come. Well it did, quite literally.
The morning wears on. The track is changed. With parental pride on the line I drive faster. Not quicker but as fast as I can push the Baby Beast. Now the Organisers are into the competition between us big time. "He’s only .15 seconds behind you" they would slyly exclaim with perfect sincerity on their faces". As I grit my teeth and screech away I see them all holding onto each other, laughing. Could they be laughing at me I ask, as I promptly run over some cones and get lost again.
At the end of Round 2 I post a 37.74 and you know who is right up my clacker with a 38.05. One "friend"says to me that Stephen could drive his 318is. I politely decline saying I would be too nervous. Nervous all right, nervous I will get comprehensively hammered! The cold hand of defeat is already clawing at my shoulder and he wants to give my little boy a 160 hp monster to administer the coup de grace. No I exclaim, but maybe you could let me drive just a few laps. "No comes the stern reply, you’ve already driven it this morning, once is enough".
I call Mother of Our Son, away from everyone else, so no one can hear my anguish. "You have got to come and see this", I say, "he’s all over me like a rash". Sue turns up after lunch just in time to see the third and progressively more difficult circuit being torn up by a lady her own age. "You’re not letting my little boy do that are you" she cries with concern in her voice. I turn and cynically reply. "Your little boy is doing very well all by himself, just watch". And out he goes again and posts a 35.37 compared to my 34.77. That isn’t bad considering the best driver posted a 31.27 in a Z4 3.0! And Stephen’s in front of three others in a Z3, E46 325ti and 2002 tii.
Round 4 arrives. This is the first course I instinctively liked. A straight line of cones each increasing in distance from the other. Weave your way down, turn and weave your way back. Just remember to slow and stop at the end… By this time I have reconciled myself to humiliation and embarrassment so when he comes and asks how to tackle this course I go over what I believe is the best approach. He listens, nods and then gets a 26.18 to my 26.21. Gulp.
Now its time to save my honour, save my driving integrity, save my soul, whatever. But my next attempt ends with disaster. Coming back too fast I lock up and slide into the garage sideways, scattering cones and officials, laughing hysterically. Botched up my run but got applause from the rest of the competitors for the best wipe out of the day.
Finally, I end up with a 25.52 with Stephen breathing down my neck with a 25.60. This kid is too good. Considering the best time was a 23.48 I felt we both did really well. He also finishes with six people behind him. Total times for the day, Father 124.15 and Son 124.52. Oh the shame of it. Oh the horror. The times are posted. Sue asks me "How did he do it"? The excuses flow through my mind like a raging torrent. "He’s just very good", I finally exclaim. "He was very good, wasn’t he" she replies. "That’s it" I flatly state, this can’t go on any more". "He’s grounded for life, banned from any more track days". My dear wife just snorts and walks away. So much for exercising absolute authority. Does that mean I am not the boss?
So here, dear reader, you see a thoroughly challenged parent. Without any instruction on the day he did everything he was taught. Got to say how proud I was despite being challenged to the max. Its great seeing someone you taught to drive do so well. Didn’t expect him to do so well.
The next stage is off to the track. Although the next track day is next month, he’s got soccer, and work. That means I had better go and get as much track time under my belt before he gets there and teaches me a thing or two!
But at the end of it all I am really proud of his efforts and achievements. What I hope is that we have a track day together and should that be to his liking perhaps we could form a track team and drive together. Just as long as I get to be quicker! J